All Saints Day is one of my favorite days of the church year. We had many to remember this year and for whom to give thanks in my small but mighty congregation. And as the creed says, we look for the resurrection of the dead, and the life of the world to come even as we make our song here on this earth: Alleluia, alleluia, alleluia!
(With thanks to Barbara Rossing for her excellent commentary on Revelation, some of which is paraphrased/quoted below.)
Revelation 7:9-17
9 After this I looked, and there was a great multitude that no one could count, from every nation, from all tribes and peoples and languages, standing before the throne and before the Lamb, robed in white, with palm branches in their hands. 10 They cried out in a loud voice, saying, “Salvation belongs to our God who is seated on the throne, and to the Lamb!” 11 And all the angels stood around the throne and around the elders and the four living creatures, and they fell on their faces before the throne and worshiped God, 12 singing, “Amen! Blessing and glory and wisdom and thanksgiving and honor and power and might be to our God forever and ever! Amen.” 13 Then one of the elders addressed me, saying, “Who are these, robed in white, and where have they come from?” 14 I said to him, “Sir, you are the one that knows.” Then he said to me, “These are they who have come out of the great ordeal; they have washed their robes and made them white in the blood of the Lamb. 15 For this reason they are before the throne of God, and worship him day and night within his temple, and the one who is seated on the throne will shelter them. 16 They will hunger no more, and thirst no more; the sun will not strike them, nor any scorching heat; 17 for the Lamb at the center of the throne will be their shepherd, and he will guide them to springs of the water of life, and God will wipe away every tear from their eyes.”
Matthew 5:1-12
1 When Jesus saw the crowds, he went up the mountain; and after he sat down, his disciples came to him. 2 Then he began to speak, and taught them, saying: 3 “Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven. 4 “Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted. 5 “Blessed are the meek, for they will inherit the earth. 6 “Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they will be filled. 7 “Blessed are the merciful, for they will receive mercy. 8 “Blessed are the pure in heart, for they will see God. 9 “Blessed are the peacemakers, for they will be called children of God. 10 “Blessed are those who are persecuted for righteousness’ sake, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven. 11 “Blessed are you when people revile you and persecute you and utter all kinds of evil against you falsely on my account. 12 Rejoice and be glad, for your reward is great in heaven, for in the same way they persecuted the prophets who were before you.”
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Dear friends, grace to you and peace this day from God who abounds in love, through Christ who shows us that love. Amen.
The lessons for All Saints Day are different in each of our three lectionary years, and this year’s are the ones that have always resonated for me. These are the lessons from which I’ve always drawn my understanding of a just and loving God.
The picture in Revelation of God wiping away every tear. The image in the Psalm of literally tasting that God is good. The letter of 1 John reminding us that we are God’s children. And the Beatitudes, the “blesseds”.
But this year, they’ve all felt different. (Thanks 2020.)
And this different reaction to these words upended my experience of them and dropped me into uncomfortable territory. Into a place of wondering if I really believed these words or not.
It’s times like these that I’m eternally grateful that I’m Lutheran – a member of a faith tradition that encourages exploring our doubts, not pretending they don’t exist.
This year, I just can’t hear the Beatitudes in a passive way. This year, they’re not referring to people I don’t know; they’re referring to my friends. To US. We are the ones who have felt all of these things in this year. And we might say that it sure doesn’t feel blessed.
But I think Jesus is calling us to consider what GOD considers blessed.
It’s not the things of this world, what many, many people see as a good reason to celebrate on social media with “#blessed”.
In the peaceable realm of God, that which is blessed stands over against what late-stage capitalism might call blessed. In many ways, it seems upside down. And we do well to ask “so if Jesus is saying the oppressed and afflicted will be blessed – how exactly is that going to happen?”
There’s a clue in verse 4, when we hear “blessed are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted.”
The Greek word translated here as “comforted” is parakleytheysontai, and it’s derived from the Greek word paraclete, which was used in courtroom settings in the first century Greco-Roman context. It referred to lawyers and advocates and has the connotation of interceding on behalf of those who need assistance.
Those who mourn will receive not only comfort and consolation – but advocacy. Someone to speak on their behalf.
Jesus promised us the paraclete of the Holy Spirit, much later after his resurrection. What about here?
Perhaps you’ve heard about the person who cries aloud to God, “why don’t you do something about all the hunger/racism/etc in the world?” And God replies, “I was going to ask you the same thing.”
Jesus is painting a picture here of the peaceable realm of God in the “already” phase: where those who are hurting are accompanied by compassionate and caring people who advocate on their behalf. Where right relationship is valued far above an asset-heavy balance sheet. Where justice and righteousness are the order of the day. Where the beloved community of our 1st John lesson lives in peace, equipped by God to support one another through the uncertainties, hardships, and joys of life.
A colleague reminded me this week of the Christian philosopher Nicholas Woltersdorff’s deeply moving book Lament for a Son. Mr. Woltersdorff lost his 25-year-old son to a mountain climbing accident, and the book traces his grieving process. In it he asks the question “who are the mourners?” and it struck me that this question could be asked about all these folk encompassed by the Beatitudes. He writes:
Who then are the mourners? The mourners are those who have caught a glimpse of God’s new day, who ache with all their being for that day’s coming, and who break out into tears when confronted with its absence. They are the ones who realize that in God’s realm of peace there is no one blind and who ache whenever they see someone unseeing. They are the ones who realize that in God’s realm there is no one hungry and who ache whenever they see someone starving. They are the ones who realize that in God’s realm there is no one falsely accused and who ache whenever they see someone imprisoned unjustly. They are the ones who realize in God’s realm there is no one who fails to see God and who ache whenever they see someone unbelieving. They are the ones who realize that in God’s realm there is no one who suffers oppression and who ache whenever they see someone beat down. They are the ones who realize that in God’s realm there is no one without dignity and who ache whenever they see someone treated with indignity. They are the ones who realize that in God’s realm of peace there is neither death nor tears and who ache whenever they see someone crying tears over death. The mourners are aching visionaries.
Such people Jesus blesses; he hails them, he praises them, he salutes them. And he gives them the promise that the new day for whose dawning they ache will come. They will be comforted.
The Stoics of antiquity said: be calm. Disengage yourself. Neither laugh nor weep. Jesus says: be open to the wounds of the world. Mourn humanity’s mourning, weep over humanity’s weeping, be wounded by humanity’s wounds, be in agony over humanity’s agony. But do so in the good cheer that a day of peace is coming.
In our Revelation lesson, just when we are expecting even more destruction with the opening of the seventh seal, there is a delay and the scene shifts. Four angels stand at the four corners of the earth, holding back destructive winds. Their mission is to hold back the judgments until God’s people can be “sealed.”
Even in the most difficult sections of Revelation, God’s judgment is not unrelenting. The people of God are shaped as protected – as preparing to persevere in their witness even in the midst of the hardships that lie ahead. And the people of God are not limited to the tribes of Israel; the multitude around the throne was “from every nation, from all tribes and peoples and tongues.”
“Who is able to stand?” was the rhetorical question left dangling at the end of the dreaded sixth seal, after the four seals’ deadly horsemen and the fifth seal’s depiction of Rome’s victims under the altar. The interlude of Revelation 7 has given God’s people their answer to that question by depicting their identity as a redeemed community, wearing white robes and singing. By the end of the interlude of Revelation 7 all of us as God’s people can confidently answer: “With God’s help, we are able to stand.”
A day of peace is coming.
At this time in history, when the existence of forces of evil cannot be denied; when a deadly pandemic has the planet in its grip; when the beloved community seems like a dream so far off that all we can cry is “how long, O Lord?” – a day of peace IS coming.
We are the mourners who have caught that glimpse of God’s new day, and until it dawns, our ache for it will be palpable. And it is that ache that will move us to act toward its in-breaking.
On that day, peace will be both pax, the ceasing of conflict; and shalom, the condition of living abundantly and harmony and mutual goodwill.
Carl Daw’s hymn text O Day of Peace affirms that peace is always God’s gift; yet it also recognizes the importance of human responsibility in preparing an environment in which peace can flourish:
O day of peace that dimly shines through all our hopes and prayers and dreams,
Guide us to justice, truth, and love, delivered from our selfish schemes.
May swords of hate fall from our hands, our hearts from envy find release,
Till by God’s grace our warring world shall see Christ’s promised reign of peace.
Then shall the wolf dwell with the lamb, nor shall the fierce devour the small;
As beasts and cattle calmly graze, a little child shall lead them all.
Then enemies shall learn to love, all creatures find their true accord;
The hope of peace shall be fulfilled, for all the earth shall know the Lord.
In all that we feel in these hard times, in the depths of all that we bear, we pray for the hastening of that day.
Amen.
Light from the Gorge 